


and i know that you see my life in foreign eyes

by inmylife



Category: PRISTIN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Blood, protective mother nayoung, train cars, xiyeon being a little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 21:39:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14798444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inmylife/pseuds/inmylife
Summary: it's a little dangerous, that's right





	and i know that you see my life in foreign eyes

**Author's Note:**

> title from taboo by christabelle

“Should we have left them home alone?” Kyulkyung asks. Her knife is still red. It drips onto the mauve wall-to-wall carpeting of the apartment. 

 

“Go wash that off.” Nayoung waves the younger girl into the bathroom. She wonders if she should worry about cleaning the floor. 

 

“I know what you’re thinking,” Minkyung whispers. If it were anyone else, Minkyung probably would have been scary, but Nayoung is used to Minkyung by now, and her habit of sneaking up on people, quietly. “Don’t bother cleaning up. He was a jackass. He tried to choke Yebin.” 

 

“Also,” adds Yebin from across the room, “getting blood out of carpeting is hard as hell. Trust me.” 

 

Nayoung doesn’t bother asking how Yebin heard them. That’s just how Yebin is. 

 

“She thinks she’s so tough,” laughs Minkyung. “But really. Don’t waste any more energy on this guy and his apartment. Let the authorities clean him up. And don’t worry about Kyungwon and Siyeon. They can handle themselves, you know they can.” 

 

“How do you always seem to know what I’m thinking,” comments Nayoung. She comments rather than asks. This is because some questions aren’t meant to be answered. 

 

“I’m done,” interrupts Eunwoo. She walks back into the man’s living room with her satchel filled with cash. “He has cases of water in here, too. The bottled kind. If someone strong - for example, Yebinnie - would be so kind as to carry them for me?” 

 

“Anything for you, Nunu,” Yebin smiles. It’s the biting kind of smile. The sarcasm burns through Yebin’s voice but it makes Nayoung smile, because if Yebin and Eunwoo can still play-fight, it means they aren’t too scarred by what’s happened tonight. 

 

Then again, maybe that’s worse. 

 

She takes two cases of water from the man’s stash in his closet and balances her gun on top of them. Her sneakers squelch in the drips Kyulkyung’s knife has left on the floor. 

 

Home is an abandoned train car left at the service station years ago and never carted away. It’s hidden, secluded away from prying eyes, between many other trains just like it. Nayoung doesn’t need to count five rows in, eleven rows forward anymore. She knows the way. 

 

Yebin kicks at the door. “Open up, Kyungwon, it’s us.” 

 

Kyungwon opens the door of the train car. Her face looks a little shell-shocked, but it softens considerably upon seeing the cases of water and Eunwoo’s bag stuffed full. 

 

“You have to promise not to be mad,” Kyungwon warns. 

 

“What did you do,” Nayoung deadpans. 

 

“I didn’t do anything,” the younger woman is quick to hasten. “It’s Siyeon’s fault. She let them in.” 

 

“Them?” Nayoung lets the water cases and her gun drop to the floor before pushing Kyungwon out of the way because what if the police have found them what if they hurt Siyeon what if what if what if

 

There is blood on the floor of the train car, but it is very obviously not Siyeon’s. Siyeon is on Kyulkyung’s mattress, criss-cross-applesauce, appearing mostly unbothered while two girls Nayoung doesn’t know perch on the end of Eunwoo’s bed. There’s a third girl Nayoung doesn’t know. The blood is hers. 

 

“Park Siyeon,” says Nayoung. 

 

The girl who is bleeding is lying prone on Nayoung’s mattress. She’s mixed-race, with a round face and long brown hair that’s bleached at the ends. She looks young. Young like Siyeon is young. 

 

“Kyungwon unnie patched her up for me,” Siyeon says quietly. Yes - the girl is bandaged. There is blood on Nayoung’s quilt, the blue one she’d stolen from someone else’s house a year ago because it had been getting cold. Long strips of gauze are wound around her thigh. 

 

“We can leave,” one of the other girls says quickly. “If - it’s really okay. I might be able to get into a different car, on the other end of the yard, if -”

 

“No,” Nayoung says to the girl. Her face is also round and her hair is also brown, but this one is full Korean. She’s pale and has a natural aegyo to her face that Nayoung would associate with Eunwoo. “You’re staying. I’m Nayoung.” 

 

“Sungyeon,” says the aegyo-faced one. 

 

“Yewon,” answers the third, with bangs and a long nose and eyes that look like they were made for smiling even though they aren’t smiling now. “And that’s Kyla.” 

 

Kyla is sleeping. She’s wearing a tank top. There’s a bruise on her upper arm.

 

She’s from one of the better-off districts, is what Sungyeon tells her. All three of them are. Kyla’s sister works for the government. An officer. Sungyeon’s parents were doctors. Yewon’s were in the camps, and she had lived alone. Kyla and Yewon had met by chance, on a train (the irony, thinks Nayoung, given they’re on a train now), and Kyla had started slipping the older girl money, food, once even a coat. Yewon’s status was deoreoun - untouchable. Forbidden. 

 

“She’s too selfless for her own good,” mutters Sungyeon, bitterly, whose mother had been doctor to Kyla’s family. “Her sister caught her and turned her in. She got to keep her own status, and their parents got demoted just to jungkan. But Kyla's deoreoun now. She tried to take her to the camp in Yongsan-gu himself.”

 

Kyungwon winces at this. Nayoung sees it out of the corner of her eye. Nayoung, Kyungwon, and Yebin were all deoreoun from birth - they are, still. But while Nayoung and Yebin were just street children, Kyungwon had grown up in a camp. The largest one in Gwangju. 

 

She sees Kyulkyung look down too. The sister - the ultimate betrayal. From family. Something Kyulkyung knows all too well. 

 

“I was there with my mother. I hit her sister and we ran, the two of us. She shot her herself.” Kyulkyung curses audibly. “Yewon found us pretty quick. Lucky us. Two girls raised kkaekkeuthan and jungkan definitely couldn’t survive alone.” 

 

“How long has it been?” That’s from Minkyung. 

 

“A week.”

 

“It’s my fault,” whispers Yewon. It’s a sudden whisper. “If I hadn’t kept talking to her… if I hadn’t taken what I did…” 

 

This prompts Kyungwon to rush across the room. “No it isn’t, Yewon, let me tell you right now that it is not your fault, it’s the regime’s for putting us into categories, or it’s Kyla’s sister's for being a dickhat, but none of it is your fault and let me tell you that you’re here now and you’re safe and there’s no kkae or jung or deoreo, it’s the ten of us now and we’re all the same and that’s what matters.” 

 

“So,” interjects Minkyung, after a tense silence and Yewon bursting into tears in Kyungwon’s arms, “would anyone like some water?”

**Author's Note:**

> i still can't end fics wow 
> 
> brief note on the class system - kkaekkeuthan are people who work for the government, jungkan are the middle class, deoreoun are criminals or children thereof
> 
> find me on twitter (missyehana) or tumblr (sssungyeon)


End file.
